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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 20, 1892
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 20, 1892
Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 20, 1892
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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 20, 1892

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Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 20, 1892

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    Punch, or the London Charivari, Volume 103, August 20, 1892 - Archive Classics

    The Project Gutenberg EBook of Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103,

    August 20, 1892, by Various

    This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

    almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or

    re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

    with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

    Title: Punch, Or The London Charivari, Vol. 103, August 20, 1892

    Author: Various

    Release Date: February 14, 2005 [EBook #15049]

    Language: English

    *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK PUNCH ***

    Produced by Malcolm Farmer, William Flis, and the PG Online

    Distributed Proofreading Team.

    PUNCH,

    OR THE LONDON CHARIVARI.

    Vol. 103.


    August 20, 1892.


    AD PUELLAM.

    [Detective cameras have become favourite playthings with ladies of fashion.Ladies' Paper.]

    You used to prate of plates and prints

    And quick developers before,

    In spite of not unfrequent hints

    That these in time become a bore;

    But then this photographic craze

    Seemed little but a foolish fad,

    While now its very latest phase

    Appears to me distinctly bad.

    Since even your devoted friends

    At sight of you were wont to fly,

    You manage still to gain your ends,

    And photograph them on the sly;

    The muff, the cloak with ample folds,

    The parcel, and the biscuit-tin,

    I know that each discreetly holds

    Detective lenses hid within.

    Should CROESUS greet you with a smile,

    A bromide will record the fact;

    Should STREPHON help you o'er a stile,

    The film will take him in the act.

    Yet this renown, if truth be said,

    Is fame they'd rather be without;

    Nor, I assure you, will they wed

    A lady photographic tout.


    ANTIQUITY OF GOLF.

    That Golf was a game probably known to and played by pre-Adamite Man (whoever he may have been; name and address not given) is evidenced by the learned Canon TRISTRAM's observation in the Biology Section of the British Association Meeting last week, to the effect that he (the Canon) had never seen a better collection of these Links connecting the present with the past world. This must be most interesting to all Golf-players.


    NOT MEMBERS OF BRITISH ASSOCIATION.

    First Passenger (reading Morning Paper). 'PSYCHICAL CHARACTER OF HYSTERICAL AMBLYOPIA'!! DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT 'PSYCHICAL' MEANS! WHAT DOES IT MEAN, OLD MAN?

    Fellow Passenger. "DON'T KNOW, I'M SURE, DEAR BOY! SOMETHING TO DO WITH BRAINS, I B'LIEVE. NOT AT ALL IN MY LINE!"


    'ARRIET.

    A Realistic Rhapsody.

    (With Apologies to Mr. Henry Kendatt, Author of Astarte, in the Bookman.)

    Across the wind-blown bridges,

    O look, lugubrious Night!

    She comes, the red-haired beauty

    Illumined by gaslight!

    By London's dim gaslight!

    So hush, ye cads, your roar!

    Behind her plumes are waving

    Her oil'd fringe flaps before.

    O 'ARRIET, Cockney sister,

    Your face is writhed with jeers;

    How awful is the angle

    Of those protuberant ears!

    Those red, protuberant ears!

    And your splay feet—O lor!!!

    My loud, my Cockney sister,

    Where oil'd fringe flops before!

    Ah, 'ARRIET! gracious 'eavens,

    How your greased locks do glow!

    I swoon! The hodoration

    (I heard you call it so)

    Sickens my senses so;

    'Tis Citronel—no more,

    That scents, like a cheap barber's,

    That oil'd fringe hung before.

    'ARRIET, my knowing darling,

    Your eyes a cross-watch keep,

    You're togged in shop-girl's fashion,

    Your cloak is bugled

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